Shadows 02 Celtic Shadows

by K C West

After dinner, stuffed and contented, we strolled along the quiet streets and stopped beside the river. We stood silently, arms around each other, and watched the moonlit water gurgle and bubble its way downstream. I thought about that other night when - wet, angry, and brokenhearted - I had looked at the river and wished I could lose myself in its depths. I glanced at PJ standing beside me, her arm still snug around my waist, and knew that drowning in the river’s murky depths was no longer an option.

  “Look at that clean water,” she murmured. “I wish I could pour all the sordid memories of the past few weeks into that river and let it cleanse my soul completely.”

  I hugged her against me, defying any other sordid thoughts to defile her. “You’re safe now, little one. Nobody’s going to hurt you while I’m around.”

  She tilted her head upward to smile at my bold declaration. “I appreciate the sentiment, but as we’ve both learned the hard way, there are no guarantees of safety in this world.”

  “Yeah, I know. There will always be criminals. But even beyond them, there are always people like Terry lurking about, ready to make trouble. She wasn’t always that way. A few years into our relationship, she wanted to experiment more, if you know what I mean, but we were able to compromise. Something in her has changed in the past five years, and not for the better.”

  “Kimmy, that’s probably more than I need to know about you and Terry.”

  “Sorry.”

  “But I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

  “What, sweetheart?”

  “Why on earth did you tell her about my tattoo?”

  “I didn’t. Why would I have a need to? Oh, wait a second. She was at the morgue the day I had to look at that young woman’s body. I told Sergeant Jones you had a tattoo, and no doubt Terry heard me.”

  “Jesus. The police know about it, too?”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, but they’re sworn to keep things like that confidential.”

  “Okay. I guess that makes sense, then. But you’d think Terry would have given you some privacy, just in case it was me.”

  “True.”

  “Anyway, given the circumstances, I forgive you.”

  “That was so hard, PJ, going in there, terrified I’d see you on that cold slab.” A chill slid down my spine. “I don’t know what I would have done if - but enough of that.”

  I traced gentle circles against her back with my fingertips. “How are you doing? Are you still feeling anxious?”

  “Every once in a while it comes over me, that’s all. I used to be fearless, you know, but now…” Her voice trailed off. “My confidence is shaken. I feel so weak and helpless at times, and these scary thoughts worm their way into my brain.”

  “Oh, honey.” I brushed her bangs aside and kissed the top of her forehead. “The doctor your dad found will help you with all of that.”

  “I hope so. She’s supposed to be an expert in mental trauma.” PJ’s eyes glistened as she looked at me and then away. “Is that what I have now? Mental trauma?”

  I wanted to assure her she was as strong and confident as she’d ever been, but I knew she had changed. “Some, I guess,” I told her. “But, it’s understandable, considering what you’ve been through.”

  “I don’t like it. Not one bit. The time in the hospital was bad enough, but it turned out that getting shot was only the beginning of the problem.”

  We turned and headed toward the inn and our warm, safe room. As we walked, I analyzed my own feelings of inadequacy. While PJ and I had been separated, first by the kidnapping, then by her hospitalization, I had floundered in a haze of anxiety, fear, and rage. The final couple of days that she spent recovering from Terry’s assault were among the worst in my life.

  PJ wasn’t the only one who had come away changed. I was different, too. I blamed Terry for disrupting part of our lives, and I wanted her punished.

  My former lover had been arrested, courtesy of Her Majesty, but had posted bail and disappeared. I was furious at the leniency of the Welsh judicial system, and wondered whether she would show up for the hearing or flee to the States or some other part of the world. Terry had almost succeeded in destroying PJ and me, but despite her efforts, we were together and we would heal. I had faith that in time, we would recover all we had lost.

  We had both learned a serious lesson in trust. It wouldn’t be that easy again for anyone to drive a wedge between us. I squeezed her hand as we strolled along. After a few minutes, I stopped and nudged her up against a stone wall, where I lowered my head and planted tiny kisses along her jaw.

  She giggled, tilted her head, and moaned in pleasure when my lips found the hollow of her collarbone and lingered there.

  “Are you sure there’s nobody watching us?” she asked, her voice a husky whisper.

  I looked in all directions. “Not a soul in sight.”

  “Good.” With a sigh, she pulled my head down and delivered a moist, open-mouthed kiss to my waiting lips. Our tongues tangled in a delicious duel over familiar territory, as the river raced along nearby, all but ignored.

  We spoke little as we wandered slowly toward the inn. Just being together was what we needed after all we had been through. Words were unnecessary when our innermost thoughts were in tune. Besides, it would only burden PJ to know about my inner turmoil. Her recovery was of primary importance.

  *

  “Who was on the phone?” PJ perched on the edge of our bed and towel-dried her hair, perfuming the air between us with the scent of raspberries.

  Her terrycloth robe, cinched at the waist, covered an extra large T-shirt. I felt a pang of disappointment when I realized she intended to sleep in the shirt again tonight. Months ago, when we first became lovers, we had decided to sleep nude whenever possible. It had been an enjoyable, comfortable, and quite practical arrangement for those times when the urge to make love overcame us.

  Since the kidnapping, however, PJ clothed herself in some sort of shirt or gown at bedtime. We were just about to hurdle this awkward barrier and return to our preferred sleeping attire when Terry attacked her, and we lost all the progress we’d made.

  I knew I had to be patient, that PJ would work her way through this new difficulty. In deference to her feelings, I began wearing my comfortable, well-worn scrubs again. It would only be a matter of time, but meanwhile, I ached for the feel of her warm body draped across mine as we slept. So much time had passed since we had been intimate, and I knew just how much I was missing. She had awakened a whole new vista of sensual delight in me during the past year. Damn it, I wanted it back. I wanted her - plain and simple.

  “Kimmy?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Earth to Kim. Are you in there?” PJ finished drying her hair and settled the towel across her shoulders.

  “Sure. You asked me about the phone call.”

  “That’s right.” She patted a spot on the bed beside her. “Come here and tell me what has you so jumpy. Did something happen?”

  I sat down and took her hand. We smiled at each other. “Nothing happened as far as I know. Blodwyn called and wants to talk with us. I invited her for tea tomorrow afternoon.”

  PJ squeezed my hand. “That’ll be nice. I like Blodwyn a lot, and I know she was a big help to you and Dad when I was gone.”

  “Yes, she was.” I noticed that one of the ties of her robe lay across her bare thigh, just a few tempting inches from my hand. What if I gave it a tug, just enough to loosen her robe, and then, what if I slid my hand under her shirt? Would she let me?

  Soft green eyes glanced downward, and her cheeks flushed.

  Was she reading my mind? We were often able to do that, but maybe this time I wished she couldn’t.

  “Kim?”

  My head lifted.

  “You want to untie it?”

  My breath escaped in a rush. “Oh, I want to do much more than that.”

  Her hand closed over mine, her thumb sliding across my knuckles. “I know this has been hard on you. You’ve been so patient
with me, but I just can’t seem to sort out my emotions.”

  I reached my free hand up to touch her cheek, and my thumb rubbed her lower lip. “I understand. And I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

  She kissed my thumb and took it into her mouth, biting down gently before releasing it.

  Oh, baby. Liquid fire scalded my insides.

  “Go ahead. I’d like to try ‘a bit of a cuddle’ as they say around these parts. If you’re ready for bed, untie my robe, and we’ll see how things go, okay?”

  Her smile was so sweet it brought tears to my eyes. “You mean it? You’re not just feeling sorry for me?”

  “Actually, I’m feeling sorry for me. I miss being with you, too. This thing with Terry robbed me of my pleasure, too.”

  I kissed her and felt my heart thudding against my chest. “I’ll make a final bathroom stop and check on Pup to see if he needs to go out.” I left the bedside lamp lit. PJ’s blonde hair shimmered in its soft glow, lifting my libido to a higher level. “Wait right here, okay?”

  She giggled. “Okay. I won’t go anywhere.”

  After taking care of Pup, I changed into a nightshirt, finding it less restrictive than the scrubs, and pulled back the covers. PJ slipped out of her robe and wrapped her arms around me. “I think,” she murmured against my neck, “that we might be too warm in these outfits tonight.”

  “Whatever you say.” I grinned and held my breath as she unfastened the first few buttons of my shirt. It was slow torture of the most exquisite kind, and it lasted just two more buttons before I yanked the shirt over my head and tossed it on the floor.

  Her hands moved over my skin, stroking and caressing, her words a steady jumble of husky endearments. I leaned back on the pillow, pulling her down on top of me with a contented sigh. “At last.”

  PJ braced herself with her right arm, lowering herself to kiss me on the lips, chin, neck, and all the way down to my breasts. Either she was ignoring the pain in her shoulder, or her left arm was stronger now. I reached up and traced the edges of the dressing through her shirt, remembering how close the bullet had come to taking her life.

  She moaned and pressed her warm mouth against my breast, jolting me back to the present. Without further conscious thought, my hands were in her hair, raking through thick, golden strands. I wished the sensation would go on and on. It felt wonderful, but we weren’t quite back to normal. She was still wearing that infernal T-shirt.

  “There’s still something in the way here.”

  She pushed herself up and back, straddling my waist. “I think it’s time. Help me get this off, will you?”

  “With pleasure.”

  I slid my hand under her shirt and lifted. She pulled her left arm out of the sleeve and tugged the garment over her head. With a soft moan, she stretched out on top of me.

  “Oh yeah,” we murmured together, and laughed, as our breasts mashed and mingled in comfortable reunion.

  Eventually, we resumed kissing and touching, stroking and fondling. Our bodies heated with the friction of such passionate attention, and glistened with a thin film of sweat. At first, it was scary and awkward. I let PJ lead the way and take me as far as she thought possible. I had removed my briefs and was sliding her bikinis down over her hips when she trembled.

  “What is it? Should I stop?”

  She broke contact, lifting herself up on one elbow. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I just can’t yet.” Her chest heaved, and I felt her tears dropping onto my breasts.

  “Shh. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” I stroked her back, making tiny circles against her smooth skin. “You’re doing fine.”

  She raised her head, and I saw the tears on her cheeks, the agony in her eyes. “I love you. That’s what hurts so much. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  I tried to pull her body back down on top of me. “I know, and I love you, too. Make no mistake about that. We’re going to get beyond this. A little more time is all we need.”

  “Shit! I hate what I’ve become.” Her face twisted into a grimace. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  “Then why can’t I make my body and my brain work together? Damn it, you’re my lover. I want to show you how much I love you, but I can’t.”

  “It will come. You just have to allow more time.”

  She slid off me and rolled onto her side, crying harder, pounding the pillow in anguish.

  “Hey, there.” I put my arm around her waist. My body thrummed with intense need. I took several deep breaths and willed certain areas to stop tingling. Oh, geez. This was torture.

  Sensing my thoughts, PJ turned and embraced me. “Please, let me help you. I know you’re hurting, and I can take care of your needs. I know I can do that much. I wish I could do everything.”

  “I love you and I want you. Right here, right now. But our lovemaking is a shared experience. I want you to enjoy it, too.”

  “Shit. I’m so pathetic.”

  “You stop that. Don’t you think that, or say it ever again. You’re the love of my life, the best thing that ever happened to me. I love every inch of you. Do you hear me?”

  Except for sniffling, she was silent.

  “PJ? Look at me.”

  I stared into her watery eyes until she gave me one of her lopsided grins. “That’s more like it. Now, why don’t we curl up together and get some sleep? Are you okay like this, or do you need to put your shirt back on?”

  “I think I’m good this way, unless you want me to put it on.”

  “I want what you want, and I think we’ve made great strides tonight. We really have.”

  She plucked several tissues from the box on the bedside table and blew her nose. I switched off the light, and we pulled the covers up around us.

  PJ’s lips were warm against my neck. “I love you, Warrior Amazon. No one else in this world would have such patience with me.”

  I ruffled her hair and kissed her forehead. “I love you, too, shortstuff. And you’re well worth the wait.”

  Chapter 28

  Blodwyn poured two steaming cups of tea and handed them to PJ and me. We were gathered around a small table in one corner of the spacious dining room. A dozen or so of the inn’s guests sat at tables around us, enjoying afternoon tea.

  Dressed in civilian clothing, a heather green sweater and black slacks, Sergeant Jones made a congenial, less intimidating addition to our group.

  “Here, try some of the fresh ginger biscuits.” She reached for a couple of still warm cookies. “They’re incredible.”

  I took a sip of tea and leaned back in my chair. PJ, sitting beside me, had been unusually quiet since Blodwyn’s arrival. I wondered why. Maybe she would participate more once the refreshments were served.

  She took a ginger cookie and passed the plate to me.

  “Thank you, sweetie.” I selected one of them and one of the shortbreads. “I’m going to miss Cook’s baking when we leave.”

  “Mmm,” Blodwyn said, biting into a flaky tart. “I probably gain half a stone every time I come over here.”

  PJ drank some of her tea, but I noticed that her body had tensed. Was she expecting to hear more bad news? As if there could be anything more, after what we’d already been through.

  Not one to let the grass grow under her feet, my partner came right out with the question that was obviously on her mind. “So, what brings you here, Blodwyn? Is this official business?”

  The policewoman opened her shoulder bag, pulled out a large manila envelope and placed it on the table in front of us. “I’m afraid it is a bit of business, but I do have some other, more personal things to discuss.”

  PJ put her cup in its saucer and folded her hands in her lap. “Then we’d best get to it.”

  “Right.” Blodwyn picked up the envelope. “I’d like you to take a look at a photograph, PJ, and tell me if you recognize the person.”

  She slid the envelope away and the image of a smiling, blonde-haired woman appeared.
She was standing in a garden and wearing a pastel sleeveless dress.

  PJ gasped and reached for the picture. “It’s Sarah,” she whispered and then bit down on her lower lip to stop sudden tears. “Why do you have her picture? Is she dead? Is that what this means?”

  Blodwyn glanced at me and then back to my partner. “I’m afraid so. Some campers discovered her body several days ago. We’ve been working with her mother and relatives to piece together what might have happened to her.”

  PJ wiped her eyes. “You know her full name, then?”

  “Yes. It’s Sarah Evelyn Worthington. She was thirty-two and worked in the area as a housekeeper for various families, including the Morrisons.”

  I reached for my partner’s hand. “Are you okay? Can I pour you some more tea?”

  “I’m fine, Kim.” She looked at the picture again. “Sarah Worthington - a couple of years younger than I am.”

  Blodwyn tried to take back the picture, but PJ was reluctant to release it. “I had a hunch it was your Sarah,” the sergeant said gently. “The timing was right, and your description fit. I’m truly sorry.”

  “Do you know what caused her death?” PJ’s voice was soft, but persistent.

  Sergeant Jones glanced in my direction. I sensed that she’d rather not divulge such news at the table in the middle of tea.

  I shrugged. When PJ was on a mission, there was no stopping her.

  “She was shot,” Blodwyn said finally, managing to reclaim the picture and return it to the envelope.

  PJ chewed her lower lip. The room was silent except for the sounds of bone china clinking against saucers and soft voices presumably chatting about civilized activities, murder not being one of them.

  “I’d like to speak with Sarah’s mother,” PJ said in a matter-of-fact way. “Would you give me her telephone number?”

  “Normally that wouldn’t be done.”

  PJ gripped her hand. “Please, Blodwyn. Sarah was kind to me. It’s important that I speak to her mom.”

  The policewoman and I shared a look.

  “If you can manage it, I think you should,” I said.

  “Very well.” She consulted her notebook, wrote a number on a slip of paper, and slid it along the table.